


The Terror

by nerdypipsqueak



Series: Fictober 2020 [13]
Category: A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia (1990), Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, BAMF Feisal, Interviews, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Verbal Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27320488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdypipsqueak/pseuds/nerdypipsqueak
Summary: Fictober prompt: you better leave now.Ned has his first interview after his wedding. The interviewer's intentions are not pure.
Relationships: Faisal bin Hussein bin Ali al-Hashemi/T. E. Lawrence
Series: Fictober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970629
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The Terror

Dear God, my life is chaos. We've only been married a little over a month, we've just returned from our honeymoon and the press is already on our doorstep (in some cases quite literally), demanding interviews. I don't think this is something I can ever get fully used to, this near constant intrusion on my privacy. Feisal's attending a business meeting today, the vultures outside have probably noticed that he left on his own. I fully expect to see articles about "marital strife" and "trouble in paradise" tomorrow. It's ridiculous; we're married, not joined at the hip, for crying out loud!

I'm nervous. I'm going to be interviewed on my own for the very first time today and I'm not looking forward to it. The journalist's name rings no bells but a quick Google search tells me that he works for a Turkish newspaper and his primary focus is internal affairs. That's odd, reporters like him don't venture this far out of their field of expertise. But on the other hand he has been vetted, vouched for and booked. I have no legitimate reason to cancel the interview.

He's very tall, imposingly so, and a lot broader in the shoulders than I am. When I enter the room he bows but it's not a polite bow, it's exaggerated, almost mocking. His smile, cold and vampiric, unnerves me.

"Your Highness." His voice is just as cold as his smile. This is not going to be easy.

"No titles." I inform him as we sit at the dining room table. "I am not a prince, I'm just married to one."

"So you are. How would you like me to address you then? Mr Lawrence? Mr Al Hashemi? It's an interesting choice."

"Mr Lawrence will do for now. I'm still getting used to the hyphenated surname."

"Why did you choose to hyphenate? In Prince Feisal's country it's highly unusual for women to take their husbands' names, let alone in a case like yours."

"Because my marriage is important to me. Important enough to alter my very identity."

"I see." One corner of his mouth curls upwards briefly. "So how does it feel to be married to a prince, Mr Lawrence?"

"And how does it feel to be married to an accountant? Or shopkeeper? I think the only difference is the security detail. Apart from that we are just like any other pair of newlyweds. We had our honeymoon and now we are settling down."

"In Britain?"

"We will be dividing our time between Britain and Jordan. We have family and obligations in both countries. For the time being it is simply easier."

"Easier to divide your time than to pick one country to settle down in?"

"Yes." I start toying with my ring, spinning it around my finger. I need to ground myself somehow.

"You chose to spend your honeymoon in your husband's country. Why? Most couples prefer to go somewhere special, somewhere... exotic."

"Why not? Jordan is beautiful."

"You spent a month there. What did you do?"

"A lot of sightseeing, for my benefit primarily. I worked in Amman for a while and sadly I didn't have time for daytrips."

"Sightseeing. On your honeymoon."

"Yes. Why not? It's hardly..."

"Mr Lawrence." He interrupts me. "Surely that's not all you did."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." He smirks. "You're a newlywed, on holiday with your husband..."

"I'm not sure I follow." Now it's my turn to interrupt.

"How do you like to have sex, Mr Lawrence?"

"I beg your pardon?!" I shoot out of my chair. He rises too.

"You like to bend over for him, don't you? Or to kneel. You must be a pretty sight when you're on your knees." He's heading towards me now, backing me into the wall.

"You'd better leave before I call security. This interview is over!"

He's inches away, I can feel his breath, his body heat. He's got me trapped and I wonder if I have enough time to alert the bodyguards before he does something that will impact me for the rest of my life. Then the door flies open and the man is violently pulled away from me.

"Out!" Feisal barks. "Out! And don't you dare! Don't you dare ask for interviews ever again!"

There's some shuffling behind the door, probably the bodyguards showing that "journalist" the way out. I can't listen, I can't focus, I'm shaking, my hands, my knees, my bottom lip, I'm about to...

"Habibi." Feisal catches me before I can fall, wrapping me tightly in his arms, cradling me to his chest. "My sweet, my sweet... it's alright, you're safe now."

"I... I... He asked me... he asked me questions. Intimate ones." I stutter. "About what I... liked. I think he wanted..."

"Good thing I got home early. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

"But why would he...?"

"Blackmail material. Leverage against you or me. God only knows why. Don't worry about him, he's gone now. I will have the vetting procedures reviewed. And please, _please_ don't ever attend another interview without a bodyguard present."

I nod against his shoulder. I won't be attending any interviews on my own anytime soon.


End file.
